Life Lessons from an Old Diesel Engine (or How to Live a Wise and Sustainable Life)

Our sailboat has a 3-cylinder Universal M25 diesel engine. The engine is the same engine that is used in Kubota tractors. It is rugged and reliable. It is designed to run for hours and hours and just work. It is what you would expect from a farm tractor. It is like a mule or a work horse. It is not intended to be a racehorse. 

We use the engine to get in and out of the marina. We commonly will motor our way around Lake Macatawa and down the channel to Lake Michigan before we raise the sails and turn the engine off. Other times if the wind is too weak or in an unfavorable direction we will opt to just motor, or do a combination (motor/sail) to get where we want to go.

If I push the throttle all the way to its stop, I can get the boat to do about 7.3 miles per hour (about 6.3 knots). If your goal is to get somewhere quickly, a sailboat is not generally your best way to do so. That is not really the point when you go sailing. You go for the experience more than the destination. It is the joy of being there (on the water with the wind, the waves, and the quiet) and the people that you are with, more than where you end up. 

Sailors sometimes talk about how hard you should push the engine when you are motoring. Some have noticed that the difference between full throttle (at 2400 rpms) is not that much greater than partial throttle (at 2000 or 2200 rpms). You end up going about ½ to 1 mile per hour slower. The engine runs cooler. You burn a lot less fuel. 

I have taken to doing this on our boat. I pull the throttle back a little bit. The engine runs a little bit quieter. It is easier for people to talk. We go a little bit slower. It is not really very much of a difference. We may get to the end of the channel 2-3 minutes later than we would have otherwise. That really doesn’t matter so much.

The idea is that maybe you shouldn’t just peg the throttle the entire time. Instead perhaps you should count on the trip taking a bit longer and settling in with some margin on what your engine (and boat) are capable of.

That concept might make sense in the context of motoring on a sailboat. When it comes to our own lives, however, it seems we have a lot harder time doing this. 

I have had times in my life when I was just crazy busy. I deprived myself of sleep and heaped stress upon stress on top of myself. I can remember feeling overwhelmed at times. I would get up in the early morning feeling the weight of the things undone and the coming day. I would step into the shower and try to have the hot water wash away the fatigue. As I did so I would wonder if I was approaching my breaking point. I thought that if I did, then I would be forced to stop and rest, and back off in the intensity in my life.

Everyone has a limit. That is obvious. You are human. There is only so much you can achieve. 

So let’s just say that you could quantify your breaking point. Let’s say that your breaking point is at a level 100. You can operate at a level 99 but feel very stressed and be dangerously close to your breaking point and personal tragedy. Someone else might have a breaking point of level 80. Perhaps they too are getting pressured (either internally or externally) to deliver their most. So they push themselves to a level 78 or 79 all the time. The funny thing is that no one really knows what everyone else’s breaking point is. To be honest, most of us don’t really know what our own breaking point is. But the important thing is that we accept the level 78 or 79 from the second person as giving their all. But what would life be like if you (a person with a breaking point around level 100) lived your life with limits set at 78? I suspect you would be happier. It clearly would be safer. Your life would be much more sustainable. Some research data suggests you might actually achieve more by being less stressed and more focused. You would also have reserve. When a real crisis hits, you will have a reserve that you can draw upon to counter the crisis.

A wise sailor doesn’t feel the need to push the throttle to the max. He knows it is okay to set the engine at a nice sustainable level and leave a little bit of margin left. He can use the extra throttle if or when there truly is a crisis. The majority of the time crisis mode is not needed. The engine is happy doing what it was designed to do. The sailor is happy living with reasonable expectations for the journey.

A wise person sets limits in their life that allow for margin. While everyone around them might push them or insist that they give their all, they choose to instead set their limits wisely. While their internal drive may tell them to say “yes”, “yes” and “yes” they know that they do ultimately have a limit to what they can do. They choose to define that limit carefully. They look to having a sustainable life.  

It doesn’t mean that they are lazy or neglect what is important. It does mean that they seek to avoid overcommitting and burning their reserve. They resist the urge to try to overdeliver.

There is always a limit. Everyone has a limit. That is not a question. The question is where the limit is set. Is your limit set wisely? Or do you live your life forever in crisis mode?

This is for me easier said than done. 

I have been an optimist. Whenever I would see something to do, I would really want to do it. But at times I really pushed my limits. On top of being a husband and father, a cardiologist, and building and growing a transplant program I would commit to research, writing textbook chapters, speaking events, and a host of other things. I wanted to do them all. In the end I mostly pulled them all off. But I am not sure that I should have.

Now my world has changed. Cancer, surgery, radiation, mitotane and recovery were definite limits. Persistent adrenal insufficiency was not a limit I counted on but one which has become a reality for me. A level 100 person has become a level 50 person. 

What do I give up? How do I set limits? I routinely hit the limit now. Navigating this has been a much bigger challenge for me than it was to just work really hard and really long hours. I am not good at setting priorities. I don’t know how to set limits on myself. I am struggling to learn. It feels like it would be easier to just run away from everything than to figure out how to prioritize and set more reasonable limits.

We pull out of the marina with the engine running at a slow speed. I push the throttle all the way to its stop. The engine pulls hard and the boat picks up speed. I intentionally pull back on the throttle a little bit. The engine quiets down. We make a reasonable speed. All is good.

Can we be wise? If you have pushed the throttle to the max, can you pull it back a little bit? Can you let your engine settle in at a reasonable and sustainable level? Your boat may not move as quickly. You will have to change your expectations. But maybe that is okay. If people ask, “Is this as fast as we can go to get there?” You can answer, “This is the exactly the speed that we should go to get there. It’s all good. I am doing my best.”